


a type of personal solution

by Skylark



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Affection, Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, College, Dirty Talk, Enthusiastic Consent, Inter High Exchange, Loud Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Coital Cuddling, Riding, Size Difference, Size Kink, Topping from the Bottom, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 12:35:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2429012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skylark/pseuds/Skylark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His exhale comes from his diaphragm, an open-mouthed hiss that Asahi sometimes hears in the heartbeat-long pauses that occur during matches—a sound that says that Noya's body is moving on sheer instinct.</p><p>(Or: Nishinoya rides the D train, ft. riding/size/voice kink)</p>
            </blockquote>





	a type of personal solution

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tawnyPort](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tawnyPort/gifts).



> IHX 2014 treat. [Title credit](http://youtu.be/drV8WEzIyWE).

Nishinoya's breath quickens every time he does this. He lines himself up and presses Asahi in with single-minded focus, forcing his body down. His exhale comes from his diaphragm, an open-mouthed hiss that Asahi sometimes hears in the heartbeat-long pauses that occur during matches—a sound that says that Noya's body is moving on sheer instinct.

Asahi feels pinned beneath the lightness of Noya's slight body and the pressure of his focus. His breath comes in stuttering gasps. Noya watches him with a look that makes Asahi feel transparent as glass, his eyes blown wide and dark. Asahi shivers with the strain of holding still—the strain of giving Noya room to work.

Noya's body arches backwards, unfurling. His shoulders bunch up high and then roll back, luxurious as a cat stretching in the sun as he shakes the tension from his body, forces himself to relax. The heat radiating from his body is incredible, each small switch of his hips causing shocks of sensation to twist in Asahi's stomach and shudder through his thighs. He watches the languid path Noya's tongue traces across his upper lip and wishes he were following it with his mouth.

When he tries to rise onto his elbows, Noya's weight drops forward. The motion makes Asahi jump even as the shift in weight pushes him back into the mattress, fingers digging into his shoulders. "No," Noya says, his voice a rough rasp. "Don't move. God, you're _huge,_ " he mutters, almost to himself, and Asahi feels his cheeks go an even deeper red. 

He knows he's not allowed to apologize, so instead his hands soothe up Nishinoya's trembling thighs, feeling the tension locked beneath his skin. Noya blinks down at him, a single slow sweep of his lashes. His gaze is losing its sharpness as his focus turns inward.

He can feel Noya's deep inhale, watches the way his chest lifts with it. It increases the pressure around his dick, and he tries not to squirm. "Asahi," he breathes. "Asahi, you feel so fucking good. I want all of it, everything you can give me, I can take it—" his hips move to work Asahi in even deeper. Asahi lets out a shuddering whine.

Noya's eyes are back on him in an instant, wide with delight. "Oh man," he says. "Do that again."

"Do—" his voice breaks as Noya's knees tighten against his sides, his fingers tracing lazy paths down his chest, "do what?"

"That noise," Noya says. "Your voice, Asahi, it's so _hot_. I love the sounds you make—"

"Noya," Asahi interrupts, his voice thready and high, eyes flickering to the side with embarrassment. "Noya, please."

"Like that," Noya says, heedless. "Just like— _ahh_ —like that."

Noya's so lithe, so flexible—the way he twists himself catches the low light on his collarbones, his cheekbones, his wide-open eyes. The muscles in his flanks pull long as he pushes down the last small distance, and his head tips back on a luxurious sigh. Asahi's fingers clutch Noya's hips, holding him there, as he tries to think of the unsexiest things he can so that he doesn't come from this alone.

"See," Noya gasps. "Anything you've got, I can—handle it."

 _"Noya,"_ Asahi groans. A lazy smile flits across Noya's lips at the sound. 

Nishinoya leans back and settles his hands between his spread knees, the heels of his palms pressing against the firm plateau of Asahi's abdomen. The movement tips his hips forward, flush against Asahi's, and his eyes briefly widen. "One sec," he pants.

Asahi loses track of time, his attention narrowing to the minute shifts in tension around him, the steadying weight pushing his body into the mattress, the sharp small bites of Noya's nails against his skin as he adjusts.

"Open your eyes," Noya whispers. Asahi hadn't realized they'd fallen closed. "I like seeing your face. Does it feel good?"

When he opens his mouth to answer, Noya rocks back. His voice breaks into a low moan. 

Noya gives a toothy grin as he looks down at him. "Well?" he demands.

His throat bobs for a moment before he can think again, but when he can the words spill out of him in a rush: _"Yes,_ Noya, ohgod yes, you're amazing."

Noya's grin widens, his cheeks high with color. "Speak for yourself," he says. When he sinks back a second time it pushes a whimper from Asahi's throat, and his answering chuckle is throaty, delighted.

Every tiny shift makes Noya flutter around him for a moment until he relaxes again and falls still, but the tight heat around him is unrelenting. His eyes follow Noya's gaze to the place where they're joined, messy and wet. The sight makes Asahi's cock jump of its own accord and Noya grits out a soft, shivery noise in response, his teeth sinking into the plushness of his lower lip.

His hands reach out to find Asahi's, easing them free of where they're fisted in the sheets and pulling them up to bracket his narrow waist. His gaze flickers to Asahi's face, double-checking, making sure they're on the same page. Asahi nods, panting, his fingers tightening on Noya's skin, and at that Noya's body sags until his weight is totally supported by Asahi's hold.

A sly smile graces his lips. "If you want it, come and get it," Noya murmurs. Asahi's eyes go dark.

The first snap of Asahi's hips punches the breath from Noya's body with a sharp cry, so loud that Asahi can hear how it echoes back from the walls. Noya's lower back arches to absorb the shock and his knees tighten against Asahi's sides, reflexive. Asahi stills, rubbing nervous circles against Noya's skin. "Okay?" he breathes.

For a moment Noya doesn't move, just pants harshly with his head tilted back. His skin's broken out with sweat, and tension stands out in the line of his throat. After a moment he moves slightly, whining at the sensation of it, and when he looks down Asahi again his grin is ragged, wild. _"Awesome,"_ he says. "Asahi, I want your dick, come _on._ "

Asahi wants to burn the image of Noya like this—spread loose-limbed and shuddering, his face twisted into an expression of nearly beatific pleasure—into his brain, some place he can lock up tightly and never lose. Noya's skin is scorching, and his thighs tremble as he pushes back to match Asahi's pace. He's making the threadiest sounds, startled and starving with every thrust, as he tumbles forward against Asahi's chest. Asahi kisses him like he doesn't remember how to do anything but this: running his hands over the whipcord strength of Noya's body and holding him close as he drives up into him, opening his mouth to the wet, desperate push of Noya's tongue. He feels as much as hears Noya moan his name against his mouth, punch-drunk.

"Yuu," he gasps, "I—"

"I wanna see your face when you come," Noya slurs, his hands coming up to cup Asahi's jaw. He can't tear his eyes away from Noya's, couldn't even remember how to if he was asked. "Asahi, I love you so much, let me— _ah!_ —let me see you _lose it_ —"

He can feel the splintering pressure building in his stomach, forcing his jaw tight, reducing his breaths to hitching hiccups. The rhythm falls apart, settles to jerking twitches of his hips, a low noise shuddering out of him.

When he opens his eyes again Noya is shoving himself back against him, his breaths reduced to short bursts of sound. "Asa—Asahi," he's growling through gritted teeth. Asahi reaches for him, pressing their lips together as he curls a hand around his dick. Noya sobs into his mouth as Asahi strokes him. Moments later Asahi's pressing him close to muffle his loud cries as his body pulls taut, sending shocky waves of overstimulation through Asahi as Noya spills across his fingers.

For a while, the only sound is their slowing breathing. Asahi wraps his arm around Noya's shoulders and he makes a soft noise, burying his face in Asahi's neck.

"Do you think we bothered your hallmates?" Asahi whispers when he can put words together again.

"Who cares," Nishinoya mumbles, "I put a sock on the door, it's not like they don't know what we're doing."

"...Oh." He considers sneaking out before anybody's woken up so that he won't have to look anyone in the eye, or perhaps just never leaving this room.

As if he can hear the worried path of Asahi's thoughts, Noya lifts a hand up to run against his scalp. "Calm down," he says. "It's college. Nobody gives a shit."

After Asahi relaxes into the touch, Noya's hand lifts to skim across his nose, his closed eyelids—soft touches, quietly proprietary. He can hear Noya's steady breathing as his fingers dip down to trace over his adam's apple and catch against the narrow bones of his clavicles. Asahi likes this best, the quiet moments when he can ground himself in the the sensory surety of Noya's presence.

His hand meanders further downward to stroke against Asahi's ribs, making him stifle a laugh at how it tickles. The sound only acts as encouragement, though, and after a moment Asahi is squirming away from his fingers—only for Noya to gasp when he moves too much.

"Oh, I guess I should..." Asahi begins.

Noya's eyes blink open. "I guess," he says with obvious reluctance, and Asahi's cheeks dust with pink. 

"Um. Hold on, let me—" As he eases himself free, Noya shivers and winces. "Sorry," he whispers.

Noya's eyes drift closed, licking his lips as his hips twitch a little. "No," he replies, his voice rough. "I like it."

Asahi swallows hard.

"... I'm going to go clean up," he says after a while, making a face at the mess on his stomach.

Noya flops a tired hand, as if to say _after you_.

When Asahi comes back to bed one sketchy wash-up-and-condom-disposal later, he's holding a damp washcloth in one hand. Noya wriggles over to make room, tilting towards him like an unsteady boat as the mattress dips under Asahi's weight. His eyes stay closed as Asahi gently wipes him down, sighing a little. His lips are pulled into a hazy smile that widens when Asahi presses a soft kiss to his damp stomach.

When Asahi's finished he settles back into bed and Noya tucks himself against his side, as he always does. His hair washes loose and soft across the pillow, tickling him where it flicks against his neck. 

"Hey, Asahi," he says.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

After a pause he continues, "You're blushing, aren't you."

"Noya," Asahi complains, turning his head away. Noya rolls over him to look at his face, grinning; Asahi pulls him down into a kiss to avoid further mockery. Affection blooms in his chest when Noya sags into it with a pleased murmur, skimming his toes down Asahi's legs as he stretches out.

When Asahi finally pulls back to press their foreheads together, the sense of steady stillness has returned to Noya's gaze. "I love you too," he whispers into the pocket of quiet. 

Noya noses under his jaw with a pleased sigh, tucks his arms and legs in around Asahi's larger body, and squeezes.


End file.
